


The Joy Of Proper Use

by MissMeggie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Humor, Porn With Plot, Post Kree Stone Jemma Simmons, Post-Season/Series 02, Season/Series 01, Sex Pollen, new hydra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMeggie/pseuds/MissMeggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Ward pisses off an Asgaurdian fairy Royal Princess?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Joy Of Proper Use

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [such a fool (to pay this price)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4458815) by [jdphoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix). 



> Apparently the Sex Pollen fic bug is contagious, I own nothing. This was inspired by JD Phoenix's fic Such A Fool (To Pay This Price.) The story title is from Lauren Zuniga's poem Submissive. If you like it, please leave a review!

Only you could piss off an Asgardian fairy princess Ward." Jemma mutters as they walk back toward their teams out post base The Cabin.

They're alone for this mission because they couldn't chance Thor knowing Coulson was alive.

"She was a fucking snob." He thwacks his machete through Amazonian foliage. "Besides I don't believe in fairies and I ain't gonna clap."

"Me either, remember? I'm the brains you're the brawn."

The machete whistles as he hacks through more leaves with more force than strictly needed. "Yeah, I remember. They should of sent a American dignitary to deal with her evil little ass." He looks back to make sure Jemma is still behind him. "She and my brother woulda made fast friends. Am I supposed to be tingling?"

"I'm shaky on Asgardian insect- humanoid- hybrid, secretions." She hedged and he can feel stare dead center on his back.

"English Simmons. "He said tightly.

"I'm sorry to say I don't know but being in contact with anything alien has never ended well for either of us. I will take samples and you can shower and rid yourself of whatever fae bodily function that is and hope for the best." She says holding onto his waist to steady herself as she jumps over a downed limb.

"So, you're saying I'm covered in fae shit and you're hoping it comes out in the wash?"

"Yes." She cringed and looked at her feet to hide her smile. (It's not really well hidden, he can't see it but he feels it all the same.)

-/-

They finally reach the cabin that is in fact nothing more than two person split log domain .He stands stark naked in the kitchen turned improvised lab. Jemma hums and politely ignores his nakedness as she swabs at the places that dust had hit skin. When he swabs at a cobalt blue stripe riding low in his hip her breath ghosts across his skin and he'd swear on every hydra head, that his blood hums in time with her tune.

Now is an inconvenient time for his undeniable but deeply hidden attraction to Simmons to rear its head. As if his cock hears his phrasing it twitches. Fucking hell…she's not a part of his current play. He cannot do this.

As if sensing his discomfort speaks. "You can go wash up I've seen enough…I mean I have enough information to do a work up." she stammers blushing and his blood turns hot again.

"Fuck!" he shouts and she flinches. He doesn't give himself time to regret it. He strides for the bathroom.

In the shower he tries to take care of business once he's fairy-shit-free but it only makes matters worse his thoughts circle around Jemma each second away from her heightens his senses. He can smell her perfume from three rooms away, it's flowery and French and it fills up his head. He has the overwhelming desire to taste the skin of her neck where she sprays the stuff…and see just what kind of noise the action will cause…. "No!" he tells himself but after a few more moments, he can hear her pulse and the urge to make it race is basic and will not be denied.

It's like his guts are being twisted around like spaghetti on a fork. Only the fork is made of a fire poker. His knees feel like they're going to buckle.

-/-/-

She must feel him behind her because she goes still as stone.

He's standing right behind her in nothing but a towel breathing heavily. She turns carefully around as though she knows hurting her isn't the thing he wants to do to her at all ."Ward, I think you're being influenced by an agent designed to increase sex drive."

"No shit Doc." He bites out as the stabbing heat ramps up and he's afraid he might faint but when she looks at her feet for half a beat the absence of her eyes on him doubles the pain. So he takes a sharp breath and uses a tries for a gentler tone. "I got that part when trying to handle the issue alone failed."

"Yes, well I can relieve the priapism medically…" She says twisting her hands but she keeps her eyes on his.

"The what? Use real English baby, or just smaller words." He's trying really he is but when she talks like a human dictionary the only thing he can think with or without the other worldly Viagra. (Is that would all those words make her mouth more talented on his cock?)

"In order to relieve your prolonged erection medically speaking I'd use a syringe to withdraw the excess blood away." She addresses a spot on the wall just over his shoulder.

"Or we could just screw." He suggests and she bites her bottom lip, like she's puzzling out the solution another way. She remains so composed that he's dying to make her lose the ability to think at all.

"You're with Skye." She reminds him lamely.

"The fuck I am." He retorts and her eyes go big momentarily. "She's strategic but you're not." He thinks he might have let something slip there but can't think about its taken his every thought to remain still, not touching her.

He's reached the point of pain, he's so hard beneath the towel that he's afraid he's doing permanent damage waiting on her but somehow he knows she's the only thing capable of filling the driving need flowing through him. She's clearly thinking it over as she watches water drip from his hair down his neck, over the planes of his chest and rolls down his abdomen as it disappears beneath the edge of the towel. He can feel her eyes like sniper's laser beam sight.

"I want you." He hopes he sounds impatient and not pleading.

"It's just the toxin you don't really; I'm not your type." She says and he can't ignore the disappointment in her tone.

"I really do, and you completely are… in fact I'd like to show you just how wrong you are about that." He says in a perfectly calm manner even as his skin burns with the need for contact and his insides twist like they're in a concrete mixer.

"Well alright then, I suppose coitus is the quickest remedy…." She concurs in agreement.

He crosses to her and winds her ponytail around his hand to tug her head back so she's forced to look up at him. "Say it Jemma, consent." He commands.

"Come again?" She's a bit startled but definitely totally on board. He can see it in her eyes. Still he's gotta hear the words and not just because he wants to hear her say she wants him.

"I've a great many sins upon my conscience; you will not be one of them. So I need to hear you say the words before we go somewhere we can't go back from."

"I want to have sex with fact I-"he cuts off her ramble with a kiss that could be termed as punishing even by his own definition. She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat that's half submission half encouragement and it warms his blood even further.

She stands on her tip toes to return the kiss. She tastes like the honey suckle growing in his mother's garden and for the first time in his life he's not bothered by the reminder of home. He pulls her to him so they're lined up flush chest to chest. She breaks the kiss much to his displeasure but she tilts her head giving access to her neck.

"Your body heat is definitely higher than normal and your heart rate is at least twenty five beats faster….Ahhh, do that again." He bites at the pulse point and then sucks a deep bruise into the spot. She sags against him a bit more heavily.

As he gets her plain white tee shirt off and the bra following it to the kitchen floor she continues her ramble. "Jem? Shut up and fuck me. I'll gladly endure your science later. I promise, without complaint.

She gives a groan that's mostly frustration mixed with hormones "That was my point if you don't rid yourself of the toxin soon it's going to stop your heart."

"What're you saying?" He murmurs trailing his lips across her collarbone.

"Save the foreplay though I do appreciate it." She backed away from him and he instantly feels her absence like lit coals settling in his stomach. She moves to undo and shimmy out of her denim shorts. "And just get where we both know you wanna be already." She finishes standing before him bare and confident. All of her previous nervous energy from earlier seemingly evaporated.

Even without the toxin he'd be turned by it beyond all point of denial. He leaves his towel a top her discarded clothing. He closes the space between them in two steps. He lifts her off her feet and carries her to the bedroom.

When he tosses her on the mattress she bounces with a giggle and the springs squeaking.

He anchors an arm around her waist before shoving into her hard. She gives a choked off gasp but he barely hears it as he's lost in the warmth. Then, he pulls out fractionally to push back in this time she sighs with the motion and he kisses her before thrusting twice more before finding release in a rush.

The burning of his insides ease just a bit. He's still hard though, and definitely still wants her. He's watching her face as he starts stroking into her more gently. Her pupils go wide and she flushes from head to toe. She gasps as though she's drowning. "It must be communicable…" She grits out. "It hurts…. How did you do this?"

"I've become friendly with discomfort." He drops kisses randomly on her face. Her eyelids, cheeks, forehead, and lips. "I've got you Jem." He starts rocking into her slowly. "Don't fight it, just go with it."

"Harder…please…I like it…I need…." She rambles. He stops being careful and fucks her like he means it. Her nails bite into his arms and the bed creaks like it might break but he can't care when all he knows is her.

She catches him off guard when she flips them over fluidly and sinks down onto him.

She's smiling down at him. Hair framing her face, as she sets her delicate hands on his hips to brace her movements which end up being slow and tortuous. He thinks though, he just might carry that blissed out image of her riding him for the rest of his days and definitely his nights.

He just might love Jemma Simmons and he'll` gladly publicly say it was the toxin but inside he'll know the truth.

He lets her be the boss until he can no longer take it. He sits up and with one hand gently frees her bottom lip where it's become trapped under her teeth. Then, He brackets her hips as he presses upward.

He's too busy kissing her and screwing her so hard his brain is frying to notice Jemma touching herself until she takes his hand replacing her fingers with his. A few circles of her clit and she's coming a part so loudly its scares birds out of their neighboring trees. He soon follows suit.

Then they're at it again.

-/-/-

He'd lost count of orgasms both given and had but he's lying loose limbed with his every muscle the good kind of sore. He's totally spent. Maybe that's why he's allowing himself something his cover would never have. After glow… just a tiny bit.

Jemma is lying on her stomach next to him. Her arm is thrown across his chest. He trails his fingertips up and down her arm. "I think I pulled a muscle at some point. Any advice? Mister Walk –It-Off?" She asked hair spilling over the pillow and glinting in the evening sunlight pouring in the through the half closed window shade.

"Ice and Ibuprofen then switch to heat. Maybe a rub down, where's it hurt?" He asked hand stilling on her arm.

"Left L3 intercostal space." She answers as he turns to his side. He gives her a blank look. "My lower back on the left side Ward."

"I've fucked you seven ways to Sunday. You can stick with Grant if you want. "He replies rubbing her back.

"Hmm…Okay."

"So, science question."

"Shoot." She whispers as his hands pressed deeper and leaned over to drop a kiss on her shoulder.

"Can the stuff linger?"

"It might but it's doubtful. Though, I wouldn't kick you outta my bed if you wanted to shag unaided by the pollination."

"Never took you for a casual sex kinda girl Jem." He says not bothering to hide his surprised smirk as he glides his hands up to her ribs to tickle there. She's not ticklish but instead relaxes beneath the touch.

"And I never took you for a possessive lover type but I have three separate bite marks, six …almost seven hickies and four bruises. All only where I can see them. Meant to remind me of just what you can do and how well you do it. Meaning no one should dare to try to do it better right?" He presses a smug smile between her shoulder blades where he's chosen to place the seventh hickey.

"So we keep doing this? "He makes it sound like a question but it's rhetorical at this point. He can keep what he wants and still serve Garrett's agenda. He'll just let the leverage on Skye slip.

"I wouldn't mind, I think you need a beard so you can leave the burns on my thighs." She rolls over with self-satisfied smirk.

"After we sleep? Wait what round would that be?"He asked crawling up her body to settle over her. He leans in to kiss her forcing her to meet him halfway.

Eleven we're counting my orgasms. Nine if we count yours." She replies closing the gap and kissing him so thoroughly he can feel can feel the left over pollen tingling all the way up from his toes. He breaks the kiss rolling off her before his junk can get anymore bright ideas as she drapes herself over him and falls right to sleep.

-/-/-

He and Jemma had kept up a very casual yet satisfying relationship. It's mostly secretive and clandestine but that works for him. The less people know the less they'll be inclined to use it against you. That backfires when Garrett (who doesn't know he's half in love with Jemma.) Forces him to drop her from the bus.

The sex stops after that and the death threats begin. (Fair enough, he gets it.)

He'd be the first to admit he misses the sex but more than that despite all reasoning he misses her. (She looks really hot in all that tight fitting tactical gear while trying and failing to kill him.)

-/-/-

He has his men keeping an eye on all inactive bases so when The Cabin becomes active he has a sneaking suspicion of just who's there. He flies in alone but keeps his men on the perimeter. He wants her alone but also has a healthy curiosity/apprehension of what that rock had done to her.

She's standing on the porch of the cabin with a tiny box in her hand. "It did cross my mind that this could be a set up." He said watching her face. Somehow the same, and yet slightly different. As he steps closer he can see that her once warm brown eyes are an eerie slate gray now.

She moves down a step and is now eye to eye with him. "I could see how you'd make that correlation, but no one knows exactly where or how we started and Coulson never really pushed the subject after all I threatened to kill you." Her tone is light conversational even. (Yup, the rumors are true baby got an extraterrestrial upgrade.)

"You also tried murder on for size." He points out.

She reaches out and runs her fingertip along the vee neck of his blue Henley. It leaves a warm trail behind. "Um, hum yes I did." She admits and seems utterly focused on the pulse jumping at the base of his throat at her every touch.

"What's changed?"

"I did."

"Obviously."

Her eyes snap up to his in anger and he realizes the ire in her gaze is rather real. She could harm him she is choosing not to. This is quite the turn around. "I meant what's changed between us Jem? We're on opposing sides of a vendetta." He grabs her hand stilling the motion.

"We are no longer enemies by my definition. I evened the playing field with the attempt. You know you're out matched, I want you more than I dislike you."

He smiles he can't help it. "You want me?"

"Now who's surprised Grant? "Her chin kicks up at him and there is obvious flirtation in her eyes. He likes it.

"Why do you want me?" He counters letting her lace their fingers together. There is steel like strength wound into her delicate bones now.

"You don't fear me, they do. I haven't talked to a soul, touched anyone, or been in a lab in months.

"You mean you've been held captive?" his anger is immediate and blinding but she gives a careless shrug.

"Coulson is a fan of locking up what he can't control wouldn't you say."

"Definitely."

"He can't figure me out and doesn't trust me to figure myself out."

"What're you saying Jemma?"

"Can I join your new Hydra? I've only one request. No harming Fitz." She places the box in his free palm. "In case I am not incentive enough, I gathered something to prove my loyalty." He releases her hand. Opens the box and dumps it into his hand and there in his palm is the Asgardian fairy princess who had infected them with some weird sort of libido pollen.

He laughs loudly and hard. "Baby, you're so cute."

"I only assumed that because I've never used my powers for evil or otherwise it was best to start of small."

"Jem you might be different but some things never change." He said.

"Is that a yes or no Grant? Laughing at me is growing rather tiresome for me."

He leans over slightly and kisses her slowly and that oddly hollowing warmth rolls through him again. "Hold that thought Jem." His words fall on to her lips.

"Wilson!" he calls to one of his female specialist. A lithe brunette steps out of the forested cover. "You like fairies right?" he asks sliding the snobby fae back into her container. "Have Keller remove the pollination glands and you may keep it for a pet."

He looks into the box before closing it up. "I don't need your assistance this time princess." He closes the box dropping it into Wilson's hand and gives her a nod of dismissal.

He turns back to Jemma. "Please don't treat me as though I'm breakable or somehow poisoned." She says and he can read between the lines.

"Never…" and he's kissing her hard back walking her up on to the porch and against the cabin door where they tumble through into the kitchen.

She gives a little laugh. "You finally have that beard…never thought you take my suggestion seriously." The last half of the sentence is breathy as he hits a spot he knows short circuits her brain.

"I know how to listen to and please my target audience."

Not for the first time Grant finds himself thankful for the mission F.A.E.


End file.
